extra in Maid just killing it with nothing more than a twisted up face in a writing workshop scene
extra in Maid just killing it with nothing more than a twisted up face in a writing workshop scene
Nothing gets you up in the monring more than @sh0rtstackqueen.bsky.social in a maid uniform~
nothing more satisfying than a man walking up with a grin on his face saying "you caught me in the jaw earlier!"
There is nothing more satisfying than waking up with a puppy laying on your chest and yawninf in your face.
Writing a spicy scene up on a roof, in the rain, with a vampire.
maybe we did make a mistake in writing it off as nothing more than pure shit
Nothing is more seasonal than a drunk father figure screaming in your face
and a lot more of us grew up in the scene than want to admit it
BDSM doesn't mean bondage or sadomasochism or whatever you kids think it does. It stands for bad dad & sad mom
35 years in comics retail is a long, long time. Some days I feel it more than others.
Nothing in particular, just feeling a little extra creak in my knees today.
it looks like dodo is holding a pad with no writing on it. he's nothing more than a snake oil salesman. fast talking with zero experience in public service.
Currently writing a scene with @amalasrosa.bsky.social illustrations in mind and I’m in love with it 🥹
just a little more weight than usually see, gives him that extra Baby face
Nothing makes me feel more like a wife than a man with an extra hole
Actually, real estate developers (and finance generally) have been killing a lot more than just the music scene in NYC (and the web took part in killing the music scene). Been going on since sometime in the 1970s.
jacobin.com/2024/02/gent...
In the 1970s and early ’80s, NYC’s racially and ethnically diverse working-class neighborhoods nurtured groundbreaking rap, salsa, and punk music. Real estate speculation did away with the social cond...
jacobin.comNandor, no. Kayvan Novak, I'll show up in a skimpy maid outfit and do a lot more than housekeeping
My wife likes nothing more than to wake up in the morning with a Dickens Cider.
Woke up with the thought "love is nothing more than killing rats in the dark" running through my head. There's your sign.
I think flipping the lever and killing one person sounds more fun than doing nothing and killing several. Action is just more fun than inaction in general.
If nothing else, killing the puritanical censor in my head made writing more enjoyable.
Laid up with a badly twisted knee, trying to think of more impressive way that it happened than “I got my leg stuck in my pyjama bottoms”
Had a dream the other evening that was nothing more than a fragment, and filled up several longhand pages in my journal. TL;DR it was about my role in the dream workshop, among other disparate details